bold gryffindor, from wild moor
by reallyhatebananas
Summary: "Come be Sorted, one and all." The first day of September, 1937, dawns cold and bright. Streets teem with muggles and wizards alike. Minerva McGonagall boards a train. ::our beloved professor's first day of school::


**A/N: **My entry for the** 'First Day of School' Contest** by Ikorna. Apologies for being as epically foolish as to miss the deadline – well, actually, I didn't even realize there _was_ a deadline. Luckily the contest's still on. Un-Beta'd. Unless my computer's spell check counts, of course.

**Disclaimer: **Do you believe in magic? If you don't, then the magical world cannot exist in your books. It is impossible to own something nonexistent; thus, to clarify, I cannot own _Harry Potter_. However, in the case that magic _does_, in fact, exist, I can use my magical powers to claim that world for myself.

Either way, I win.

**)O(**

September first of 1937 dawned crisp and cold, winds moaning across the bustling train station at King's Cross. The muggles, of course, noticed nothing but an unusually chilly day, while those of magical heritage were far more wary. Storm-clouds rarely signified anything good – and on the day their children were being sent away, no less!

In one secluded corner of the station a family of three lurked; a young girl and her mother whispering hurriedly to each other while a man – presumably the father – clicked his tongue impatiently. Every so often he would take out a burnished pocket-watch to check the time, inevitably provoking a snappish remark from his wife.

"Now, Minnie," Catriona whispered solemnly, kneeling so that her eyes were level with those of her daughter's, "you be a good lass, y'hear me?"

The girl – maybe eleven or twelve years of age – nodded furiously, dark braids slapping against her shoulders in the stiff breeze. "Yes, Mum, I know. I won't – "

Her mother continued as if Minnie had not spoken, using the dry tone of one who had given the same speech many times before. "You must promise to obey the professors – finish your homework on time – oh, and no detentions! I don't _care_ what your excuse is," here she tightened her mouth into a thin line, achieving quite a severe expression. "I will _not_ be pleased. Do try to cause no trouble – "

"I _know_." The girl glanced pleadingly at her father, who smiled affectionately down at her before laying a hand on the thick wool of Catriona's ankle-length jacket.

"Hurry it up now, darling, or the girl'll be late – and we can't have that, now can we?" Wallace said with a jovial smile. Taking his daughter's gloved hand and the handle of her trunk in the other, he led her away from her mother to the centre of the station, allowing her to turn and wave goodbye one last time.

Minnie furrowed her brow, eyes fixed on the brown-haired woman who was staying behind with a fond expression on her face. "Why can't Mum come through with us?"

"Well, dear," Wallace explained patiently – he'd already told her all this, of course, but he couldn't quite blame her for being distracted in her excitement, "people like your mum can't see the barrier. Only you and I can – magical folk."

The girl nodded, biting her lower lip. "Right. Then, Dad – I think I want to go through alone. Be independent and all that."

Her father raised one eyebrow before smiling indulgently down at his daughter. "You do that, then, Min – do us proud, would you?"

She smiled, embracing him with one arm while he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Then he retreated to his wife's side, the two parents watching as their daughter slipped through a wall and vanished from sight.

On the other side, Minerva McGonagall took her first steps into the magical world, alone.

**)O(**

Minnie didn't particularly like crowds – she wasn't claustrophobic, per se, but did value her personal space. Being bumped and jostled from all sides was a rather disconcerting experience, and she quickly made her way to the great shining steam engine in the centre of this new, more magical station.

She maneuvred her way through the throng of young people – all students, like herself – and upon reaching the train hauled her trunk through a doorway and into a long, carpeted hallway. Minerva did _not_ want to accept help from anybody – not here, not on her first day.

Not when she was a _witch_.

When her Hogwarts letter had come in the mail a month before she had been overjoyed, of course, though not terribly surprised. After all, with a long line of purebloods on her father's side, even her mother's muggle blood couldn't diminish the chance of having a magical child too much. Minerva had been displaying little quirks and skills her entire life, ones that clearly showed her powers, but there was nothing like the confirmation of being invited to a _wizard_ school.

She'd never been so excited before – not even on her birthday.

Lugging her trunk with one hand, the eleven-year-old found the first empty compartment she could and sat down in it, grateful for the respite. She hadn't remembered her trunk being quite so _heavy_ before – but then; her dad had carried it all the way through King's Cross. Perhaps she just hadn't noticed its weight when packing.

As she sat on the plush seat, staring out the window, it finally sank in.

_She was going to Hogwarts._

She was really, truly going.

Minerva let out an un-ladylike squeal, yanking her mittens and coat off in the heat of the compartment. Suddenly far too restless to sit down alone, she stood and popped the latch of the window, opening it all the way and sticking her head through. She shivered in the wind.

"Oi! Minnie!"

Minerva glanced around the station until she saw the plump girl standing by her mum – Lorelei Heckens, a girl with whom Minnie had spent several summer afternoons. They certainly weren't the best of friends, but at least she _knew_ somebody now.

"Lori," she called, loudly enough for her voice to carry over the babble of the crowd, "come share my seat with me!" She watched, satisfied, as the girl kissed her mother on the cheek before making her way to the train's open door.

She was finally going to Hogwarts, and she had a friend, too.

**)O(**

Minnie, who wasn't the most patient of girls, walked out to meet her friend halfway down the train. When they returned to her previously claimed compartment there was a boy now sitting there, who didn't look much older than themselves.

"What's your name?" Minerva asked curiously, settling back into the soft fabric. She resisted the urge to wriggle her toes in joy – after all, her father had asked her to show pride. The wriggling of one's toes was most likely _not_ what he had meant.

"I'm Parker Brown," he said, and there was a sort of innate pompousness in his voice that put her off. "Pureblood – from the Brown line, you know."

Minnie just barely stopped her eyes from rolling – they managed to get halfway to the ceiling before she hastily redirected her gaze to the boy. "Yes, I should say that was obvious, your name being Brown and all. I'm Minerva – and you can't call me Minnie."

He frowned at the same time a voice chirped up from beside her: "But Minnie – I can call you that, can't I?"

This time she _did_ roll her eyes, winding a braid around her finger again and again – it was a habit she'd been unable to break. "Yes, Lei; I suppose you can call me that. But only friends."

The boy – Parker – now directed his gaze to the blonde sitting across from him. "And who're you?"

"I'm Lorelei," the girl said proudly.

"_Last_ name, you prat."

Lorelei's squawk of indignation was drowned out by Minerva's quick, "It's Heckens. And before you ask mine's McGonagall."

"That's all right then, I suppose," Parker said, frowning thoughtfully; a snide voice inside Minerva asked if it pained him terribly.

The boy wasn't good company and she hoped he'd leave soon.

**)O(**

As it turned out Parker did _not_ do her that favour – instead, the hours-long ride was spent listening to his prattle about 'Pureblood-this' and 'my father-that.' After a while she began tuning him out, glad she'd picked a window seat, and before she knew it somebody was shaking her awake.

"Minnie – wake up, we're at Hogwarts!"

Her eyes jerked open of their own accord; she clapped a hand over her face to shield from the sudden onslaught of light. "Ouch – it's bright!"

"That'd be the torches," Parker said in a rather snobbish voice. Minerva forgave this, however, when he extended a hand to help her to her feet. At least he showed some manners – _maybe he wasn't hopeless after all_, she sniffed.

The students piled out of the train into the dark night; it was still just as cold and voices were sucked into the rushing noise of the wind. Minnie managed to espy a pinprick of yellow light – it looked to be far off in the distance but turned out to be only a few feet away – and led her companions towards it.

She groaned when she saw that it was, indeed, a torch; it was held by a rickety old man who looked like he was made from more leather than flesh. When a sizable group had gathered around him, he grinned, betraying disturbingly yellowed teeth, before wheezing out, "Hello, children, my name is Ogg and I'm the gamekeeper here at this fine school." He paused for a fit of coughing and Minerva, in a moment of spite, wondered exactly how long he had left to live. "If you first years would follow me, I'll take you to the boats and we'll have ourselves a nice feast – after the Sorting, of course. Come along, then!"

Minnie thought glumly that he seemed the sort to lure little children away from play-grounds with promises of candies and brightly colored toys; but, unwilling to end her stay at Hogwarts so early on, she followed the group of students. Hopefully they'd arrive at the school in one piece.

Moments later she was regretting that thought, clinging to the shoddy boat's edge as it heaved in storm-tossed waters.

"_Min_!" The shriek sounded inches from Minerva's ear as a cold hand latched onto her wrist. Minnie sighed, awkwardly using her free hand to pet the girl's head. She'd never been good at comforting people.

"It'll be all right, Lei," she called, hoping vaguely that her voice would somehow be heard above all the rushing noise. "We're almost there."

When the students stumbled out onto the bank, sopping wet and shivering, she managed to pull her hand out of the blonde's, stumbling into another student in the process.

"Oh, sorry, I – "

"That's quite all right."

The boy turned around, smiling haughtily, and Minerva's spirits dropped just a touch. It seemed that the Brown heir hadn't managed to drown in the lake.

**)O(**

Minnie tried to listen, she really did – but it was _oh_ so hard to pay attention to the ramblings of the bearded professor when there was so much to see. She caught the gist of his speech, of course; her dad had already instructed her on the houses – he, personally, had been a Hufflepuff; his parents before him both unusually good-humoured Slytherins – and she'd known about the school's method of Sorting for ages. Watching the other children fret about the so-called 'test' had been amusing, at first, until one girl had looked about to burst into tears. Minerva had taken pity on her, and explained that it was only a hat, because she'd never liked watching other people suffer when she could help.

She supposed that made her a Hufflepuff, just like her father, and found she quite liked the prospect.

When the crowd moved into the Great Hall she paid even more attention to her surroundings, and less to the Sorting itself; what with the ceiling and the floating candles and the gilded walls, Hogwarts was the most wonderful place she'd ever seen – and she had grown up with magic!

Once Professor Dubbledore – no, _Dumbledore_; _that_ was his name – had reached the M's, however, Minnie began to feel the first slight stirrings of panic.

'Malwayne, Christiana' went to Ravenclaw.

_What if she didn't get Sorted?_

'McDervich, Bryon' was a Slytherin.

_What if the letter had been wrong?_

'McElsone, Eleanor' was _also_ a Slytherin, and the green-decked table was cheering wildly by now.

_What if it had all been a giant mistake?_

And then –

"McGonagall, Minerva!"

This was it.

Legs feeling as if they'd been turned to jelly – she was surprised they could support her at all – Minerva walked up to the front of the room and sat down upon the wooden stool, feeling eyes boring into her face. Her one comfort was that she wasn't _truly_ the centre of attention – many people's stares were quite glassy and obviously bored – and it would all be over in a matter of minutes. Seconds, maybe, if she was lucky.

The auburn-haired professor smiled benevolently down at her – Minerva had the distinct feeling of being examined from the inside out and didn't like it one bit – before lowering the hat down onto her head.

Her first thought was that it smelled rather like old cheese.

_~Well, now, that's not very nice.~_

_Oh, I'm sorry!_ Minnie thought, rather panicked – she'd accidentally insulted the one who held her future in its hands. _I just meant – _

_~No, it's quite all right,~ _the voice said kindly. Minnie imagined that if it had a face, the hat would be smiling in much the same way as Professor Dumbledore – they had the same sort of patronizing tone to their words. _~A bit of honesty's refreshing now and then, m'dear, and I must say, some of you students certainly aren't fresh spring blooms either. Like yourself, child; dirt and curdled milk and something else… unwashed socks, perhaps?~_

Fear gone, Minerva felt a little bubble of indignation rise up inside of her. _Why, you little –! _The bubble burst. _I'll have you know that I smell perfectly wonderful, thank you very much! You're that one that stinks like an old goat's arse!_

There was a peculiar chuckling sound in her head, almost as if her ears were ringing. She felt a wave of dizziness and clutched onto the stool with both hands.

_~Well, there's that question solved. I wasn't sure where to put you – you're loyal to a fault; got lots of talent in there; brains, too, and you know how to use them – but there's only one place for someone with your sort of spirit.~_

Before Minerva could do more than suck in a quick gulp of air there was a soft tingling about her ears, and then –

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She was home.

**)O(**

Wow… I think… that may have been my very first happy ending. Anyway –

Read – review – recycle – it makes the world go round!


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